"Pay," remonstrated the First Lieutenant sorrowfully, "that's the
third half-penny for swearing this year. You mean that the Doctor has
always evinced a marked partiality for the society of the gentler
sex."

Punctuated at the more exciting points with breathless exclamations of
horror and amazement from his audience, the Doctor's rendering of the
story proved an overwhelming success. As he painted in vivid periods
the scene where Goldilocks was discovered by all three bears asleep in
the little bear's bed, the First Lieutenant broke down completely and
had to be patted and soothed into a more tranquil frame of mind before
the story could proceed. Then there was a spell of musical chairs,
the First Engineer obliging at the piano, and afterwards giving a
tuneful West-Country folk-song at the Doctor's request. The Junior
Watchkeeper, declaring his inability to remember anything, read half a
column from the "Situations Vacant" portion of _The Times_, and amid
the ensuing applause slipped quietly from the room in obedience to an
unspoken signal from the First Lieutenant. After the Second Engineer
had given an exhibition of what he asserted to be an Eskimo tribal
dance, the First Lieutenant addressed the Assistant Paymaster.

"Now then, young fellow, it is your turn. D'you want to give us a
yarn?"

But the boy had learned his lesson. "I'm afraid I don't know any yarns
that would interest you, Sir," he said. "If you don't mind I think
I'll turn in."

The First Lieutenant smiled on him with the mature wisdom of